


Silence

by Chamomile



Series: A Moment in Time [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-12-29 17:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12089502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chamomile/pseuds/Chamomile
Summary: Voices. One voice, two voices, three, a great many—the Elder Seedseer does not remember a time where her thoughts were entirely her own. (Part of the 'Moment in Time' Series, taking place after the events of patch 2.2.)





	Silence

Voices. One voice, two voices, three, a great many—the Elder Seedseer does not remember a time where her thoughts were entirely her own. She conveys and perceives the voices of the greatest elementals, their sweet whispers and rhymes, their shrill cries for help, their death knells as they burned with the Twelveswood five years ago. In any other place, hearing voices would be such a strange phenomenon, one that would be looked down upon, but here, in the heart of Gridania, in the heart of her home, she is lauded, extolled, worshipped—she is everything to them and they are everything to her. Without their voices, she is not herself.

That is why the past five years have been…normal. Or, at least, normal for any other non-Padjal. The once playful whispers of the spirits she so loved had nearly faded into oblivion, and even after five years…the silence, to her, is deafening. It is rare now that sweet, otherworldly voices rouse her from slumber, speak to her of prophecy, of the wood. No, they are too scared to show their faces anymore, and, for a time, so, too, was she.

At times like these, where she is laying in her bedchambers, heart racing, afraid to fall asleep, she still expects her ethereal lullabies that float along the breezes, the instruments of the moogles accompanying them. 

But there is nothing. And, again, she must sleep alone, in the booming, haunting silence.

She is waiting for someone. Or rather, has been waiting for someone. It has been a week without a report; seeds of doubt grow within her little mind, growing into thoughts she doesn’t want to acknowledge. But, no, she is sure nothing has gone wrong.

Kan-E tries to ponder more of joyful things, of things that will break this silence in her mind. Of homecomings, of celebrations, of another primal defeated far away, on the shores of Vylbrand. Of an adventurer and her comrades who can put a stop to it, of the relief Limsa Lominsa will feel when the primal menace has sunk into the sea…

…she ponders wistfully about its Admiral.

She does not stir, but instead, closes her eyes and dreams of victory on faraway shores. Cacophonies of celebration, assonance of patriotic song, crashes of waves against the rocks, cries of gulls somewhere from the sky…she sees it, hears it—oh, does she hear it—she wants to be there, take it all in. And though she would be far from the voices of her past and her home, she would always have the guiding, reassuring voice of the present in the image of that faraway place. Whispering sweet nothings over and over, murmuring quiet declarations of love, washing away at the doubt with every caress of the waves; warmth envelops her entire body just thinking of it.

…But the sounds do not last. Sleep, she forgets, is another form of silence, and she is left under its dominion.

_She stands among flames, burning trees, meteors falling in all directions. Immediately, she realizes where and when she is—the heart of the Twelveswood, the Calamity—and wishes for the umpteenth time that these nightmares would cease. She knows it too well: the conflagrations, conjured scents of burnt brush, burnt trees and flesh, lifeless bodies of elementals strewn about the charred ground…She wanders through it again, but the path is different than she remembers._

_It takes her to a precipice by the ocean. But she cannot hear it, and it is on fire; yes, the very ocean is on fire, past the horizon and into the falling sun. As much as she wants to run back, the flames trap her from doing so, and cry for help as she might, she cannot muster the voice among the hushed, burning ocean._

_The flames grow closer, the heat burning the bottoms of her nightclothes, the tips of her flowing hair…and she does not want to burn, no; the ocean is still there, but she wonders whether a burning ocean will be her destruction or her salvation. There was only one way to find out, and find out she would, diving headfirst into cold flames and burning water._

_She cannot swim, and so she sinks, though her body feels as if it’s being crushed under some kind of pressure. She is surprised she hasn’t woken up by this point…would it not be easier to simply drown and die and wake up from this nightmare?_

_But she is still breathing as her feet hit the sandy bottom, the heat slowly fading and being replaced with a chill that runs through Kan-E’s entire body, as she breathes again and finds herself in some kind of odd abyss, neither water nor air, sea nor land._

_Someone is near her. She does not hear it, but she simply knows there is another soul present…if it was a soul at all. It wraps its arms around her from behind and turns her around, and she must be startled at the sudden embrace against her bare, burning skin._

_She must be…but she is not. There is no temperature to this touch, no warmth in this odd embrace. She cannot help but look up—and it is her Admiral, standing there, looking as though she is in mourning. She is smiling, shedding tears, but Kan-E cannot hear the sobs; the Admiral speaks, but there is no sound. And she tries to speak to her Admiral, ask her if she is all right, but her voice is nowhere to be found, and she tries again, and again, murmuring, speaking, exclaiming, crying, sobbing, screaming, wailing—to no avail._

_As much as she tries to break the embrace of this false, silent, Admiral, she is unable to, cannot feel it, and her only option is to look up once again._

_The Admiral’s face is not the same. She is no longer sobbing, no longer smiling…her eyes are closed, a trickle of blood running down from the tip of her forehead, her lips—the Admiral is dead, and Kan-E remains stuck in her cold, soundless embrace, crying for her to wake up._

_She has no choice but to close her eyes and sob silent sobs, waiting for this to end, this nightmare inside a nightmare…perhaps, if she waits long enough, she will go mad here and start hearing voices again. She wouldn’t mind that. Yes, any sound is welcome here, in this embodiment of her own personal Seventh Hell._

_“Wake up…” she attempts to say time and time again, “You must wake up…!”_

A door gently creaks open from a distance, and shuts.

_“Wake up…wake up…”_

Footsteps. Faint footsteps.

_“IcannotdiehereImustnotdieherepleasedonotletmediehere–”_

Someone sits on the bed with her, and there is a ruffling of covers.

A sound.

The chains are shattered. The corpse fades. Kan-E is freed.

Her eyes shoot open, and she gasps for tiny breaths, for something earthly, some kind of emotion. Her breathing becomes audible again, and her fluttering gaze turns to the source of the sound: a body she knew all too well, clad in a familiar black uniform, most definitely alive and well, shining silver eyes staring back at her, safety.

Merlwyb.

Kan-E gasps, ever so slightly; Merlwyb turns to her, taken slightly aback. It is still dark, but she sees a tiny, apologetic smile.

“…Did I wake you?” Merlwyb whispers, lying down with the Padjal and closing the gap between them. And she is real, Twelve be good, she is _real_! It is a sound, it is a wonder, it is a voice!

She shakes her head, avoiding a response to the question, and somewhat afraid of speaking, out of fear that perhaps she still cannot…or that, if she does, she will be too loud from all her silent screaming.

But it was worth a try.

“You are unhurt…You are unhurt…!” Kan-E murmurs over and over, putting a hand to her lover’s pale cheek, perhaps because she is overjoyed, or perhaps to make sure she is real.

“Did you truly believe I would be overrun by a few unruly Sahagin?” she chuckles—it is low, and it is quiet, but it is most definitely Merlwyb, “I would think you, of all people, would have more confidence in me.”

Her playful face softens, into one of kindness, exhaustion, wrapping her arms tightly around the smaller woman, sighing softly into her hair, kissing her forehead gently.

“…I apologize. I should not have kept you waiting.”

Kan-E does not respond with words, simply returning the embrace, shaking her head slightly at the remark.

“I did not doubt that you would return to Gridania safely,” she replies, overcome with an exhausted joy, “And yet, I…”

She sheds a tear. She dislikes shedding tears in front of the one who has seen so many of hers, who she would rather show strength to, but she supposes—for tonight—it is all right.

“Another nightmare, then,” Merlwyb replies, knowingly. She seems to have memorized the inner workings of Kan-E’s lonely mind…but it is a welcome thing, and she is thankful for it.

“You needn’t worry anymore,” she doesn’t have to look to hear the Admiral’s soft smile, closing her eyes and taking in the sound of every word, “All is well.”

“I am glad for it,” Kan-E closes her eyes again, this time filled with a sense of peace as her consciousness begins to drift off again, “So very glad…”

…And she is asleep. But she can still hear Merlwyb, hear everything, feel everything.

“We will speak of it tomorrow,” the Admiral mutters, “But for now, Kan-E…you must sleep.”

She fades into slumber with those words on the tips of her ears to keep her from falling back into nightmares…and her sleep is filled with wonderful, sweet-sounding dreams. She is glad, at that moment, that she has this newfound silence in her mind. So she can think for herself, hear everything clearer…

She prays that, if ever she is to get lost again, Merlwyb will be the one to call her back.


End file.
